


And You Lose the Plot

by callmejude



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, Torchwood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:45:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmejude/pseuds/callmejude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newton insists Hermann would enjoy one of his favourite shows back when he was in college, but he doesn't really anticipate it being so much harder to watch this time around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And You Lose the Plot

“C’mon Hermann,” Newton’s voice has started to take on whining qualities, and Hermann knows he’s doomed. The only way to get him to stop whining once he’s started is to just agree to whatever he’s asking. “You’ll like it. I swear, Owen looks _just_ like you. Like, if you had a better haircut and wore clothes that fit.”

“Insulting me isn’t going to get me to sit down and watch this with you, Newton.”

Newton smirks. “Nah, c’mon, I’m serious. You could be twins. Let’s just watch a couple episodes, okay? I promise you’ll like it.”

Hermann makes a face as he reads the back of Newton’s holographic boxset. “I don’t understand where you’re getting that conclusion. When have I ever liked any of your sci-fi movies?”

“Torchwood is a show,” Newton points out, as if that makes a difference. Hermann rolls his eyes.

“All this vacation time isn’t healthy for you if you’re just going to let your brain rot with all this.”

Newton scowls at him. “I watched this shit way before the Kaiju War started, buddy. This was my _life_ back at MIT.”

Hermann looks up from the boxset in his hand. “Shocking,” he says flatly. Newton snatches it away from him.

“Whatever, just a few episodes, okay? We don’t have to watch it all tonight.”

They make it three minutes into the pilot before Newton starts waving and pointing. “See? You look just like him, see?”

Hermann frowns. _'Better haircut'._ “I look nothing like that,” he grunts.

“Oh come _on,_ Hermann, you two have the _exact same face_.” 

“We do _not,_ and he is entirely classless.”

Newton rolls his eyes. “Of _course,_ ” he snaps, causing Hermann to bristle.

“What’s with that tone?”

“Would you just shut up and watch,” Newton answers snappily, “Jesus, you’re worse than a five-year-old.”

They make it another twenty minutes before Owen shows up again. He uses the word “twat” and Hermann makes an indignant noise.

“Oh, would you loosen up,” Newton says, punching his shoulder. “Twat isn’t even a bad word anymore.”

“He’s crude. I’m offended you see any of me in him at all,” Hermann grumbles, and Newton throws his head back and laughs.

“Oh God, _no,_ Hermann, he’s nothing _like_ you. I mean - physically...and physically _alone_.”

For some reason, that only offends Hermann further. “Yes, well, it’s a pity _I’m_ the real one, I’m sure you and Dr. Harper would get along much better.”

Without missing a beat, Newton says, “God, not at all. He’d have taken my job. I would’ve been stuck with yours.”

Hermann checks to make sure Newton is watching the screen before letting himself smile.

About ten minutes later, Owen uses alien pheromones to sleep with two people of different genders at once, and Hermann watches quietly. He can feel Newton’s eyes on him. Unsure what he’s gauging for, Hermann pretends not to notice and doesn’t react.

By the third episode, Hermann begrudgingly admits that he may see a similarity or two between Owen and himself, but he doesn’t voice it. Newton worms closer to him halfway through the episode, seemingly unconsciously. Hermann has to keep his hands in his lap to quell the ridiculous urge to reach out to touch him.

‘A couple episodes’ somehow becomes five, and Hermann is beginning to grumble about needing to get some sleep by the time the next one starts. Newton looks at the back of the box and whines.

“Aww, c’mon, one more? I like this one, it’s creepy.”

Hermann doesn’t want to admit to liking this show, or the animated way Newton explains things during the breaks in action or dialogue, but he’s not finding it in him to argue against another episode when Newton is grinning at him like that.

“Fine,” he says, “One more.”

“Owen’s like you about camping,” Newton says cheerfully, “You’ll bond with him this time.”

By the time Owen and Gwen are in the woods, Newton has fallen entirely silent. Hermann glances over, wondering if he’s perhaps fallen asleep, but when he looks, it’s just the opposite. Newton’s back is ramrod straight and Hermann can tell even in the faint glow of the television that he’s blushing.

“Newton?”

Newton jumps so fast his whole body jerks off the couch. “Huh?”

Hermann feels a rather wolfish smile tugging at his lips. “Are you all right? You look a bit flustered.”

“What? No. I mean, I - no. Shut up.”

Hermann blinks. He hadn’t been _serious_. “Good God.”

“I’m _not!_ ” Newton shouts, “Seriously it’s just a little - jarring. I forgot this scene, that’s all.”

“Mhm.”

“Whatever, Hermann, you said yourself, you two are nothing alike.”

“You’ve been arguing with me on that opinion since we started.”

Newton blushes redder. Hermann chuckles. “You -” he starts, but Newton cuts him off by turning off the TV.

“I’m...shut up, it’s late, I’m going to bed.” Before Hermann can even say anything, Newton gets to his feet and storms off to his barracks. Hermann watches him leave before turning the TV back on and finishing the episode.

The next morning, Newton is his usual self. He talks excitedly about the next episode in line. “It’s got a lot of Tosh in it,” he tells him, “Which makes it great.”

Hermann weaves in and out of listening while Newton explains that Tosh is one of his favourite characters on television. “Don’t be jealous, though,” he says, which forces Hermann’s full attention, “Owen is probably tied with her.”

Hermann rolls his eyes, but can’t help but smile once his back is turned. 

Newton has gone from chattering about Torchwood to chattering about Doctor Who to chattering about the intestine on his desk when he says cheerily, “I’m gonna grab some coffee. You want some?”

Smirking to himself, Hermann doesn’t look away from his chalkboard before answering, “Coffee would be _amazing._ ”

There’s a loud _crash_ , and Hermann turns around to see Newton’s side of the lab covered in shards of glass from where he’s dropped a flask full of something orange, which is splattered all over his shirt.

Despite himself, Hermann feels himself grinning smugly. “Nothing alike, huh?”

Newton is bright red, and doesn’t look at him. “Shut up,” he says bitterly, “And get your own damn coffee.”

At first, Hermann thinks he may have crossed a line, but when Newton returns, still furiously red, he slams a cup on Hermann’s desk without a word before crossing to his own side. He doesn’t say much for the rest of the afternoon, and Hermann feels a little guilty.

“Are you all right?” he asks gently, once the silence proves too strange for him to work in.

Newton huffs. “It’s not toxic,” he answers.

“Well, I would hope not,” Hermann says, rolling his eyes. “You’re still wearing a shirt covered in whatever it is.”

Newton grumbles something to himself, but doesn’t respond.

“I was only teasing,” Hermann says after a moment. The words feel strange in his mouth. He doesn’t usually need to clarify anything with Newton, certainly not that he was joking. Though, honestly, he can’t remember that many times when he’d actually _been_ joking.

Newton sighs very loudly, but doesn’t say anything.

Hermann frowns at his chalkboard. Perhaps he did cross a line, after all.

Newton doesn’t seem agitated or upset the next day, but Hermann still feels somewhat contrite. He can tell something’s wrong in the way Newton never brings up Torchwood, or anything that happened the day before. It isn’t like Newton to avoid any topic of discussion, and though he’s acting his usual self in every other way, it’s glaringly obvious to Hermann that a boundary has been crossed.

He doesn’t know how to react to Newton this way. Usually when he’s angry with Hermann he has no problem admitting it. He doesn’t know how to handle Newton wanting to pretend he isn’t upset. He doesn’t think he’s ever been witness to Newton ever pretending he isn’t exactly what he is. 

In the end, he decides to do nothing and pretend everything is as it should be, if only because that’s what Newton is doing.

After a week passes, Hermann simply can’t take it anymore and braves Newton’s side of the lab. “Newton.”

Newton jolts, and Hermann swears he sees his feet leave the ground before spinning to face him. “Whoa, dude. What - what is it? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

It takes Hermann a moment to realize why he’s so shocked. Thinking on it, Hermann can’t recall ever crossing Newton’s side before. “Nothing’s...I’m fine,” he assures quickly, “I just wanted to apologize, for teasing you. And was wondering if you were interested in having me watch anymore of your show. We don’t have to finish the one we were on, if you’d rather skip to the next one.”

Newton grins so wide Hermann’s reminded eerily of the Joker from old Batman cartoons his sister would watch when they were children.

“Wh...what?” Hermann asks nervously.

“You like it,” Newton says brightly, “I knew you would.” 

Hermann shrugs. He does, but he won’t admit it. Nor will he admit that it isn’t really about the show anymore at all, but that he likes spending the time with Newton. He likes to see him smile, and likes talking with him about something that isn’t work.

Midnight finds them both on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them. Hermann can tell how much Newton loves this episode from how intense his struggle between staying silent and excitedly pointing out his favourite things seems to be. He forgets about the popcorn in his back and forth, so Hermann eats it.

When the next episode brings Suzie back, Hermann notices Newton’s body go stiff again. Worried that another scene like the one in the woods may happen, Hermann doesn’t bring it to attention and hopes whatever it is will be over soon. As the episode progresses, however, Hermann doesn’t really understand what it could be.

The episode ends and Newton turns off the television. “I, uh.” He clears his throat. “I’m actually kind of tired. We can watch more tomorrow, if you want.”

Hermann narrows his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, um. I’m fine.”

Hermann can’t recall a time Newton has ever hesitated in between words. He’s speaking slowly, overthinking before saying anything. Hermann goes against his better judgement and asks, “Did something in the episode upset you?”

Newton scoffs. “Not yet.”

Hermann frowns. “Is it the next episode? We can skip it, I don’t mind.”

Newton fidgets awkwardly. “No, it’s. It’s nothing, I’m just…” He sighs, visibly nervous and Hermann feels the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. “We should spread them out more. There’s not a lot left.”

Hermann picks the box off the floor and squints at it. “We’ve got a whole two more series,” he says confusedly. He jumps when Newton snatches it out of his hand.

“No, I mean -” he stares blankly at the back of the box before putting it down. “I’m just tired.” He gets to his feet and stares at the floor. “We’ll watch more tomorrow, it’s okay.”

Inexplicably, they only watch one more episode the next night before Newton claims to be too tired to continue again, and Hermann knows he can’t possibly be. The man stays up until four on an average night, there’s no way he’s tired by 2300 hours. “Newton, is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” he insists awkwardly. “It’s just. Last time I watched this I didn’t…”

His eyes flick to Hermann before dropping back to his feet. “It’s stupid. I’m fine.”

Hermann doesn’t push. He’s not an idiot. His IQ is over 160, he can pick up on context clues. But bringing it up will only cause Newton to get defensive and upset, so he lets it go and they both retire to their rooms.

The next episode is decidedly centered on Owen and a newly developed love life. Hermann’s quiet for the duration of the episode until the farewell scene, when Newton launches himself at his side of the couch and wraps around him like an affectionate octopus.

“Newton what -?”

“You’ve been really quiet,” Newton says, “I was making sure it wasn’t because you were sad.”

“I’m all right,” he says, smirking, but doesn’t push Newton away and Newton finishes out the episode practically seated in Hermann’s lap. It’s nice, watching like this. Feeling Newton’s even breathing against his chest is relaxing.

Hermann figures this was the episode Newton had been dreading, but the instant it’s over, Newton shuts off the TV again. “Newton, we can watch two in one night. We have plenty.”

Newton doesn’t say anything. Nor does he get up from where he’s nestled into Hermann’s side. They sit for a moment in abject silence, and then Newton mutters, quietly and practically into Hermann’s sweater, “I used to worry about you all the time.”

Hermann isn’t expecting that. He doesn’t know what to say. “What? Why?”

Newton’s still talking into Hermann’s chest instead of actually addressing Hermann face-to-face, which makes him somewhat difficult to understand. “During drills, I was always scared you’d fall behind.”

Newton has never addressed Hermann’s disability aloud before. Hermann knows he’s always been acutely aware of it. He’s always been subtle, but Hermann’s always noticed. During their time working together Newton has always fallen back in step with him instead of running ahead. He always keeps to his left side, and always offers to carry heavier or more awkward things in a flippant and easily dismissed manner. But he’s never outright said a word about it.

“You never left without me,” Hermann says. He means it as a reassurance that he was always accounted for, but as the words leave his mouth he realizes. Newton always stayed behind. He always made sure first hand that Hermann got out. He looks down at the fluffy crown of Newton’s head and smiles. 

Newton doesn’t say anything else, and Hermann wonders what could possibly be on the horizon of this show that Newton is reverting back to thoughts of the kaiju war. It’s only been two years, but Newton has never been one to focus on the past. At least never the bad parts.

The next night, as Newton starts the episode, he snuggles deep into Hermann’s side without comment or question. Hermann tries not to make it obvious that it helps him to find the episode more enjoyable.

It continues that way the next night, and the next. They start the second series with Newton curled into Hermann’s side. Hermann can tell whatever Newton’s anticipating is drawing closer and closer, because he seems more and more panicked each night as he turns off the television.

When they make it to “Adam,” Newton reaches over and holds Hermann’s hand. Hermann misses a good portion of the episode staring at Newton’s palm cupped around his fingers, like he’s afraid Hermann will wander off.

By the end of the episode, Hermann can’t remember half of what had happened, but he’d become acutely aware of the eleven freckles sprayed over the back of Newton’s hand. Newton doesn’t seem to notice. Hermann expects that when he does he’s going to act like it never happened, or to be embarrassed, but when Newton turns off the television he only tightens his grip with a squeeze.

“Are you all right?”

Newton nods, but doesn’t say anything, running his thumb idly over Hermann’s ring finger and pinky. Hermann watches him silently for a moment before asking, “Are you sure?”

Newton lets out a heavy breath and finally looks up at Hermann. “I’m fine.” He’s smiling, but he still manages to look alarmingly close to tears. Hermann’s not sure he’s ever seen that look on Newton’s face before.

“Hey,” Hermann reaches out his free hand, but Newton suddenly drops his hold on the other and gets to his feet as if he’d just remembered something very important he has to do.

“We should get to bed,” he says, nodding as if someone else suggested it first. Hermann doesn’t want to push, so he nods.

“All right.”

It’s nearly 2am when there’s a knock on Hermann’s door. He doesn’t wonder who it is and isn’t surprised when he opens the door to see Newton standing there, staring at his toes peeking out from the wide faded bottoms of his Godzilla pajama pants.

Hermann doesn’t ask. They had done this a lot, shortly after their Drift. It was hard to sleep without touching. It was hard to be in a different room. It was hard being even an arm’s length away. He steps aside and Newton pads into the room. He lets Hermann get into bed first and follows shortly after him, snuggling tightly into Hermann’s chest.

He’s curled into him, tucking his head under Hermann’s chin instead of spooning, so Hermann decides he should bite the bullet and ask, “Owen dies, doesn’t he?” 

He feels Newton nod hesitantly, and rubs his back. “How bad is it?”

Newton swallows. “Bad.”

His voice is rough, like he hasn’t used it in several hours. Or like he’s been crying. Hermann doesn’t know how to respond to that thought, so he just nods. “We don’t have to watch anymore if it’s going to upset you this much this time around.”

“It -” Newton clears his throat and waits a moment. Hermann tells himself he’s considering his phrasing, “It upset me before.”

Hermann nods.

“He goes through a lot.”

Hermann nods again. He isn’t sure he should, so he doesn’t ask. There’s silence for a while, and then Newton’s voice, unnaturally soft and muffled by Hermann’s pajama collar:

“You look just like him.”

Hermann smiles a little ruefully, absently running a hand through Newton’s hair. “It’s not me, Newton,” he says gently, “it’s all right.” He knows Newton doesn’t need to be told this to know it’s true, but he feels Newton’s shoulders relax as he says it just the same.

They lay like that for another minute before Newton starts to shift in Hermann’s grip. Assuming he only means to turn onto his other side, Hermann lets his arms go slack, but Newton doesn’t pull away. He squirms up onto his elbows and Hermann only has an instant to wonder what’s happening before Newton’s mouth is on his.

By the time Hermann thinks it through he has Newton pressed back into the mattress, fingers wrapped tight around his wrist, pinning it beside his head. Newton shivers against him and Hermann realizes himself and jolts back.

“What’re you doing?” the two of them ask in perfect unison.

Newton laughs.

Hermann opens his mouth to answer without actually having one for what is, as far as he can remember, the first time in his life. “I...I don’t...I was...”

“Kissing me,” Newton finishes with a grin.

Flustered, Hermann spits out, “You started it,” before he even realizes what he’s said. He feels the back of his neck heat up and hopes it’s too dark to tell if he’s blushing.

Newton stares at him disbelievingly for a moment. “Wow.” Hermann expects him to say something else, but he doesn’t. He just gapes back at Hermann, who still has him held against the bed. “Wow,” he says again, and Hermann wonders what’s so shocking.

He doesn’t know if he asks out loud or not, but the next thing out of Newton’s mouth is, “That was quite a comeback.” He’s still smiling that smug, stupid smile and Hermann wants to hit him, if he could do so without letting go of Newton’s wrist.

He feels Newton’s pulse against his fingers hammering like mad. He doesn’t have anything to say that isn’t a worse comeback, so he stays quiet. He waits for Newton to say something else.

He doesn’t have to wait very long. A few seconds later Newton adds, “You’re right.”

For a moment Hermann thinks he may have said something in the past few seconds before he realizes what Newton means. “You’re right,” he says again, “I _did_ start it.”

Hermann nods, though he’s not entirely sure what for. Newton is still smiling at him, but it’s less smug now. He’s nervous. His pulse thuds harder against Hermann’s hand. For some reason, Hermann recalls an instant of slipping the pons helmet over his head, Newton turning to him: _”You ready for this?”_

“Yes,” Hermann says aloud before leaning into a second kiss.

He feels Newton gasp and forcefully tilts his chin with the kiss, sliding his tongue past his lips. Newton shifts against him, but he can’t move much with Hermann’s body over his, holding him down. He only manages to press harder against Hermann before letting out a soft moan.

Hermann doesn’t realize he’s only holding onto one arm until Newton’s other hand is in his hair. He thinks about pulling it away and pinning it over Newton’s head, but then Newton’s fingers tighten around a fistful of his hair to pull him closer, and Hermann decides he likes it there.

When they pull away for air, the words spill out of Newton breathlessly, as if only the kiss had been holding them in. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years I loved you since before we saved the world I don’t know why I kept it a secret after that. I don’t even know _how_ , I did after Drifting but I -” he swallows hard, “I love you.”

Hermann doesn’t know what to say.

Newton continues, “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t - didn’t think this was some spur of the moment thing or - or that I had some unrequited crush on Owen Harper, I just...okay well I guess I did have a crush on Owen Harper, but -”

“Newton,” Hermann says softly, “It’s all right.” He kisses Newton’s neck and listens to him breathe. “I understand.”

They lay like that for a moment before Hermann grins against his skin. “Does this mean that scene of Owen and Gwen in the woods -”

Newton’s laugh cuts Hermann’s thought short. The hand in Hermann’s hair pulls him in for another kiss before he answers, “If, uh. If you’re willing, yeah. I, well. I wouldn’t say no.”

Hermann drops his chin on Newton’s chest. “As long as there aren’t any cannibals to ruin the mood.”

Newton’s laugh rumbles in his chest and makes Hermann smile. “I knew you’d finished it without me,” he says, chuckling, “‘Skip to the next one’ my ass.” He looks at Hermann for a minute and asks, “I’d left the DVDs in the lab. You could’ve just watched them without me.”

Hermann only shrugs. “I didn’t like watching it alone. It was better with you there.”

“Why?” Newton asks. His voice is cheeky and sure.

Hermann shrugs with a smirk and kisses Newton’s chest.

“I guess I love you, too.”

Newton scoffs, and there’s quiet for a while. “So do you want to watch more tomorrow?” he asks hesitantly, “I’m sorry I freaked out. I could handle it.”

“I don’t think so,” Hermann says, tracing the lines of Newton’s tattoos, “There’s a little grove not too far from here. I think we should go for a walk.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Hello My Name is Your TV" by Ludo
> 
> it's also kind of an inside joke with myself because this was exceptionally hard for me to write after a four month spell of Writer's Block. I swear to God it was just supposed to be a cute funny little fluff piece that ended a short while after they'd watched "Countrycide" but then it got weird and sad just like everything else I write for too long. Sorry about that.


End file.
